A Thousand Candles, They Burn At Both Ends
by only-the-sassiest
Summary: A creative Whoufflé series with lots of poetry woven between lines. Covers moments between and of the Doctor and Clara being married, loosely tied with literary string. The opening quotes will set the scene. Will feature other characters on occasion (and request). This series follows no particular order; feel free to start anywhere.
1. She Burns The Brightest

_My candle burns at both ends,_

_It will not last the night._

_But oh, my foes, and ah, my friends,_

_It gives a lovely light._

_Roald Dahl_

* * *

**Clara**

"Doctor..." I murmur sleepily and bury my face into the place where his neck and shoulders meet as old friends. He watches me quietly, green eyes glowing like two ancient stars waiting for the time to pass, and I watch him, lost somewhere between curiosity and awe.

From the day I left the Maitlands to live on the TARDIS, I knew exactly where we stood with each other. Together. You don't have to say those things, and he probably couldn't anyway. But I don't mind, I never will. Sleeping at his side and wearing his ring, that's enough proof for me.

_My_ Doctor, he's scattered through my lives, as much as I am in his. A thousand candles light the TARDIS tonight, and it feels like a life can be found in each and every one of the fickle flames. Like every candle holds a hundred memories, within every memory, many moments. Happy moments, heartbreaking moments, winning moments, and the dying moments. But at the heart of it all, _our_ moments. The times like tonight, where every passing second is saying goodbye to a dear friend, not knowing if you'll see them again, but hoping that you'll never forget them.

* * *

**The Doctor**

I run a hand through her mahogany curls, and I cannot take nearly enough care not to damage anything. How could anything so perfect be anything less than fragile? I wonder if she knows how bright these moments shine among the rest, bathing in the light of a thousand candles. But she still shines the brightest, and I haven't the slightest idea how she does it. How does she constantly have a new facet to her diamond soul to reveal, and yet keep you so very much in the dark?

* * *

She is the only one that understands without speaking.

She is the only one that you can love with no wishes left.

She is the only concept that puzzles me, try and ponder as I might.

She satisfies me completely, and keeps me in wanting.

She is the last image in my mind's eye before it recedes to rest; her endlessly deep eyes the picture that ebbs from the shoreline.

She is certain, as much as she is impossible.

* * *

I love her for this, this side of me she brings out. The side that does not stumble or lose trains of thought into an unmapped wasteland of distraction. If there were a word to describe what she does to me, I would speak it to no end, that I might return it to her as a gift. I hope that my love will be enough for her to understand her worth.

She asked me to show her the stars, because she thought that stars were the most beautiful things in the universe. And I did, and it still irks me that I made to agree with her that day – because stars are only the _second_ most beautiful thing in all of time and space.


	2. Perhaps This Time

**_Scarlett_**_: Rhett! Rhett, where are you going?_

**_Rhett_**_: I'm going to Charleston, back where I belong._

**_Scarlett_**_: Please, please take me with you!_

**_Rhett_**_: No, I'm through with everything here. I want peace. I want to see if somewhere there isn't something left in life of charm and grace. Do you know what I'm talking about?_

**_Scarlett_**_: No! I only know that I love you._

**_Rhett_**_: That's your misfortune. [turns to walk down the stairs]_

**_Scarlett_**_: Oh, Rhett! [watches Rhett walk to the door] Rhett! [runs down the stairs after him] Rhett, Rhett! Rhett, Rhett... Rhett, if you go, where shall I go? What shall I do?_

_Gone With The Wind_

* * *

**Clara**

He's leaving me again. I knew from the third time he'd left me breathless and bleeding on the inside, wanting him to stay, that he wasn't going to. I watch him shut the doors of the TARDIS and I burn in a hundred flames once more. For one so loving, he could build himself hearts of ice. He could construct castles of snow and have it rain icicles all day long; by night, having them tear your love apart. Perhaps this time I won't cry, but perhaps I will. Perhaps this time he won't mind my night terrors, awaking shaking, screaming bloody murder. Perhaps this time, he won't return for me.

And perhaps this time, neither will I.


	3. Love and Leave

_But of course,_

_Of course, of course_

_I love you_

_That's why I'm leaving_

_Washington – High Treason_

* * *

**The Doctor**

My love does not keep her safe. This is the creature that shrieks at me every morning when I wake, that claws at my ancient eyes when I shut them. Intergalactic laws would decree when a female must not step on a planet, and someone needs saving; and I must leave without her. As of lately, this has been the case for the last score of trips, and I am made by some cruel hand of nature to watch her loneliness rip her, limb from limb from God-so-beautiful limb. As of lately, when she thinks I am asleep, my Clara will shed a tear for the leaf that brought her parents together. As of lately, I keep remembering what was, and imagining more so of what could've been. As of lately, I remember what I'd said; that there was a lot of one, but an infinity of the other. As of lately, I wonder what we will become.

* * *

In seventy years, I'm not sure she will still be with me. She could've left in her sleep, on a peaceful trip, on a dangerous trip. That's what really frightens me.

My Impossible Girl is not forever.


	4. Time Will Wait For Two

_We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone._

_Orson Welles _

* * *

**Clara**

I remember being sixteen years old. They'd told me my mum had passed on, and I didn't believe it for a single scarlet second. I don't believe that people die, their bodies do. They themselves live through memories, items, and important locations. My mother will never die, in that respect. And neither will I, or Dad, or the Doctor, bless him. No one dies, just this once.

Not while I clutch at the rusty silver hand of time, the hour hand I was born behind. The one accounting for my acute sense of time, the one that ever ticks on in the back of our minds. Waiting for the time to pass, waiting for the new spring grass, waiting for the Doctor to see; time will _never_ wait for me.

**The Doctor**

I clutch her hands with tear-filled eyes, but these eyes don't clutch hands. They are holding on to what little time we have left; indeed we have much, but never quite enough. I break from her fireplace gaze, if only to fix myself. To build a wall between that time and I. I wish not for that hand to leave mine, who would wish that any time? That three hearts would beat together, then not beating any longer. Even if death would make us stronger.

Our souls, of course – they cannot be joined. Humans don't understand, that they dream a lie. Such a pretty dream, which with them, dies. Which of them does not love _love_? I cannot say for myself.

To command time and to place it upon a shelf, this is a perfect dream in perfect health. So this is the last thing that I will do for you, at least, in this life.

If I tell it to, time _will_ wait for my Clara, my wife.


	5. Keys To Me (In The Form Of A Ring)

_Well, I say come for the week.  
You can sleep in my bed.  
And pass through my life like a dream through my head.  
It will... it will be easy. I'll make it easy.  
But all I have for the moment is a song to pass the time.  
A melody to keep me from worrying.  
Oh, some simple progression to keep my fingers busy.  
And words that are sure to come back to me  
And they'll be laughing, and they'll be laughing.  
My mediocrity.  
My mediocrity.  
(And they'll be laughing)_

_Bright Eyes – A Song To Pass The Time_

* * *

**The Doctor**

Clara is everything. The focus, the distraction, the greatest source of happiness and the biggest contributor to my anxiety. The most beautiful creature in the universe, but similarly the most terrifying. She'd run away with me at the first mention of showing her the stars, but she'd kept me at an arm's length, emotionally at least. _Look where we are now, Clara_. We're married. Properly hitched.

She'd said yes, she would marry me, and then asked me why, the curiosity burning away the surprise in her eyes. So I told her "I never know why, I only know who." And Clara replied, "I know _exactly_ who it is too."

* * *

She'd seen in the corner of a book, the name of the man who she'd lured with a single look. Still impossible, that girl, she never stops moving.

* * *

And not for the man whose love is yet proving

To be quite the machine, in terms of manoeuvring.

Only she has the keys to start this old thing

Which I gave to her in the form of a ring.

* * *

The Impossible Girl will never stop choosing

Between distracting me from my pain, and losing

Sight herself, of my old suggestion:

That only she can know the answer to the question.

* * *

If anyone knows, it would be she,

Hidden deep in the woods, at the bottom of the sea.

Chasing ghosts in old houses and demons in the TARDIS,

To think, it all started with some desperate Daleks.


	6. Loneliness Is A Concept

_Her smile was a welcoming beacon and I was no longer alone._

_Taken from the Excel Area of Study Guide_

* * *

**The Doctor**

Her smile was a welcoming beacon, and I was no longer alone. Loneliness is a concept, birthed from the sorrowed souls of humans blind, blind to all the creative chaos around them. Living, dying, and yet they don't see; they think they are lonely, they should take a look at me.

Or what I was, until she smiled. Clara took away the darkness, for that little while.


	7. I Am Her Cup Of Tea

_"When tea becomes ritual, it takes its place at the heart of our ability to see greatness in small things. Where is beauty to be found? In great things that, like everything else, are doomed to die, or in small things that aspire to nothing, yet know how to set a jewel of infinity in a single moment?"_

_Muriel Barbery – The Elegance of the Hedgehog_

* * *

**Clara**

Mum always said to put your love in a cup of tea. I'd looked at her like she had three heads and cotton wool for eyes, but I understand now. I can see how you can store all your caring in the bubbling cream-white of the milk. How you can place all your trust in the tightly woven fabric of a tea bag. How your heart can settle in synch with the leaves, and how the affection rising up in vapour form can put your heart at ease. So everyday, when I wake up, I make the Doctor a cup of tea. So he can receive all my love in that cosy mug, hopefully.

* * *

**The Doctor**

I received her love in a cup of tea. I wonder how that could be? Clara, clever Clara, her only. Only she could – would – put love in my tea. She'd stored all her caring in the bubbling cream-white of the milk. She'd placed all her trust in the tightly woven fabric of the tea bag. My hearts settle in synch with the leaves, and the affection rising up in vapour form put my hearts at ease. Everyday, when she wakes up, she makes me a cup of tea. So I receive all her love in that cosy mug, indeed.

* * *

What wondrous sorcery my Clara did use,

Love in a cup, she did diffuse

It.

* * *

Tea is our thing,

Our love swinging

From string to string,

Cup to the _ping_

Of the toaster, it's happening

Again, my hearts are bursting

With the light of our breakfast moments,

An end to the cruel nightmares' torment.


	8. Perchance To Dream

_To die, to sleep -  
To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub,  
For in this sleep of death what dreams may come..._

_Shakespeare – Hamlet_

* * *

**Clara**

I know where I am now. I'm onboard the most wonderful, complex spaceship in history. I'm with a not-so-mad man, who I also happen to be married to. This is what I've always dreamed of – maybe not literally. Actually, there's no way I could've dreamed any of this up. I simply lacked the imagination for it.

Imagination has never been an issue for my Doctor. What other man would fail to pry his eyes from the driest, simplest of mechanical systems, if only to admire the progress of the race in question? As such, when he does sleep, he dreams. When he does dream, and not of the nightmarish sort, he talks of puzzling entities that the greatest minds of my home planet couldn't fathom. Things that no one need ask for, and if the nightmarish sort, things that just ask to be needed. It all comes down to the particular dream that drives _you_.

* * *

When I dream, I dream of death.

I dream the dreams of final breaths.

Desperately grasping in the dark,

Or gasping for air in daylight stark.

* * *

Until there finally comes a day

My Doctor can take that all away,

But, you know what? I don't want to forget.

Never ever want to lose hold of his greatest secret.

* * *

He trusts me of course, why wouldn't he?

For us, there's simply no other way to be.

We need to trust, that's how we grow

Towards the sun, even as we fall to our knees in sorrow.

* * *

There's nothing I would give us up for.

Time will wait, for me and the Doctor.


	9. Ice or Stone

**_A/N: Special thanks to _****_thecrimevortex_****_ for the quote. :) More of a character study written creatively, as opposed to my regular line-by-line rhyming poetry. Clara reminisces on her time as Miss Montague/the barmaid Clara Oswin Oswald. Because feisty Clara is best Clara._**

* * *

_Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad._

_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

* * *

**Clara**

When he first walked away from the old me in Victorian London, I thought he had a heart of ice, so cold that it could make the snow on the streets melt in comparison. But something made me follow the dashing man who, from his apparel, I deduced to be fairly well off. I had a fair amount of expertise in the whims and representations of the rich in that period; I posed as one of them. Such a pretty masquerade, and what a thrilling adventure which only proved to further my ambition.

So I ran after the man with many a weight on his brow – or in his case, a lack thereof. I wondered how anyone so young and so _very_ mysterious could make so little spectacle of himself in parts such as those, when it occurred to me he did seem a little outlandish in manner. An alien in those parts, in more ways than one. Ma would've given me the lecture of my life, but she didn't know where I was, so I jumped on the carriage, popped my head through the sunroof and asked, "Doctor? Doctor who?"

That question was the death of me, thought at the time, served to make me lively. When he smiled at me on my deathbed and asked me to come away with him, I understood; he had not a heart of ice, but two hearts of stone. Stones by choice. Two very old stones, with fissures and gaping holes and moments of vulnerability running through every millimetre of them. Moments where he's been taken advantage of, or taken advantage. Times of love and times of being loved, places he'll always remember, and ones he has tried so hard to forget. Yet of all the marvellous elements of all of space and time, he chose _me_ to help keep the dark at bay. This never fails to perplex me, but to be honest, he probably experienced no less when I jumped into his timeline. On hindsight, I was probably not at the pinnacle of my wisdom, but nevertheless, I regret nothing. There's something about him, which forgets to question risk. It's the reason he's able to do what he does, I guess. He gets himself into such a pickle that no one thinks he can get himself out of it. Then he gets his cake, eats it too, and takes their cake as a souvenir. It's that beautiful habit which I broke myself for, so I could fix him.

And he's still trying to fix me.


	10. The Storm At Bay (It's Not Yet Time)

**_A/N: Quote taken from _****_RedAugust102_****_'s profile. Thank you for your reviews, dear. Double upload tonight, because I LOVE YOU ALL YOU GUYS (especially themadmanhopes) :D  
_**

* * *

**_Idris_**_: I've been looking for a word. A big, complicated word, but so sad. I found it now.  
The Doctor: What word?  
__**Idris**__: "Alive." I'm alive.  
The Doctor: Alive isn't sad.  
__**Idris**__: It's sad when it's over. I'll always be here. But this is when we talked. And now even that has come to an end._

_Doctor Who – The Doctor's Wife_

* * *

**The Doctor**

My TARDIS, she is aging. I can feel the strain beneath my feet as I walk between galaxies, as I step between prehistory and the future. I hear her screams of suffering everyday when Clara wakes up, and the poor old girl has to withhold the paradox all over again. I'm torturing her so I can keep my other love around; my Soufflé Girl.

But even Clara's time will come to an end. One day, when I run out of regenerations, she'll have no one left to save.

* * *

And so the story unravels,

At the end of all our travels

Together, my love

And I depart for the above

Or below

I wouldn't know.

* * *

But I pray that the TARDIS go with us silently

Keep us company if we go violently.

Holding hands,

Golden wedding bands

Wrapping around fingers

Our love still lingers.

* * *

It makes me sad, that we're still breathing

What does a breath do, if not to stop the bleeding

Of two hearts that break on impact of

The loss of my Clara to the treasure trove

Of fulfilled lives and times of fun

Of regretted actions, when we should have run

For it, and yet, she never cries

Or asks why.

* * *

It's true,

You can only ever know who.

* * *

Oh TARDIS, the song of

Chasing tails in my head.

You know what I long for,

Though the hope is dead.

* * *

But curiosity is strong

I've lived for too long.

But Clara will keep me from

Such wonderings.

* * *

She'll keep the storm

At bay, fill my thoughts instead with golden happenings.

She'll take my hand and lead me astray, for

It's not yet time to return to Trenzalore.


	11. Only For Those Pastel Skies

_I was born in a big grey cloud,  
Screaming out a love song.  
All the broken chords and unnamed cries,  
What a place to come from._

_I wish to remain nameless,_  
_And live without shame._  
_'Cause what's in a name? Oh,_  
_I still remain the same._

_Florence and The Machine – Remain Nameless_

* * *

**The Doctor**

Gallifrey has forgotten me. Oh glorious pink/orange skies, it's me! But they would not recognise. When stars forget to pierce the dark I have Clara to shine for me, but in those times, they ignored the boy who dressed like a man. Why would they listen to an old man in the body of a child? It was too easy to forget one such as myself, keeping quiet and shunning misbehaviour. So I vowed that they would never forget who I was. I would burn a legacy so brightly that it could replace our two suns in half a double heartbeat.

And the day came for the Doctor to step forth from the dusty corner of the libraries he dwelled in - but he failed his people.

* * *

In my eyes, the Doctor

Ill fits my description.

Like the wrong style of glasses

With the right prescription.

* * *

I could not save my precious Gallifrey

I still see the resplendent skies turning to grey.

Berating me, hating me

I was not yet worthy.

* * *

All I wanted was the love of my elders;

Still they cast me to the embers.

They took my pride and whipped it bare,

For all the children to stop and stare.

* * *

To this day, rule one, the Doctor lies.

But only for those pastel skies.

If they would one day cherish me

I would give it all up happily.

* * *

What makes me truly sad? Clara asked,

That the boy who every _single_ time, came last.

He cut the race short for all the others,

Just so he could bring his mother

Some sense of pride in her pitiful son

After winning the race that no one else could run.

* * *

Still, he destroyed them, it's for their own good, see?

But the excuses didn't stop him from crying himself to sleep.

Now I have seen what I have seen, done what I have done

I still feel the rejection from everyone

* * *

Forever criticising me, judging me, they're closing in on me,

Clara, my love, cannot take this kind of pain from me.

An ill-begotten name for in ill-begotten child,

Will only serve to quiet the fear for a while.

* * *

Until a day it would return and upset us all, I'm sorry

That I'm the one to tell the saddest part of the saddest story.


	12. The Years Fly (Under This Moonlight)

_Peter was alone on the lagoon.  
The rock was very small now; soon it would be submerged. Pale rays of light tiptoed across the waters; and by and by there was to be heard a sound at once the most musical and the most melancholy in the world: the mermaids calling to the moon.  
Peter was not quite like other boys; but he was afraid at last. A tremor ran through him, like a shudder passing over the sea; but on the sea one shudder follows another till there are hundreds of them, and Peter felt just the one. Next moment he was standing erect on the rock again, with that smile on his face and a drum beating within him. It was saying, "__**To die will be an awfully big adventure.**__"_

_ J . M . Barrie – Peter Pan_

_Chapter 8: The Mermaid Lagoon_

* * *

**The Doctor**

Clara sleeps, and I am sitting in our bed with the third cup of tea for tonight. It's far too sweet for her taste, with eight sugars – just the way I like it. The TARDIS buzzes on in the background, melting with Clara's quiet breaths and shivers. It's too cold, despite the blankets I have piled on top of her. Idris has yet to come round, I'm afraid.

I punch in 'Neverland', and leave the time and dates boxes empty. I don't mind too much tonight; I just want to go somewhere peaceful.

Gently swinging open the doors of the TARDIS, I step outside, taking care to shut them quietly and not let any of the cold air in.

The water of the lake glimmers slowly, like it's waiting for the moon to depart its icy throne in the night sky. A mermaid flicks her tail lazily against the rock I am crouching on, and I sonic her subconsciously. She is a native, and very pretty even by mermaid standards. The woman starts to sing softly to the cold moon, and others rise up beside her to join in the sad melody. The TARDIS begins to translate to me, and my eyes widen in fear.

**_Tick tock goes the clock  
And what then shall we see?  
Tick tock until the day  
That thou shalt marry me.  
Tick tock goes the clock  
And what now shall we play?  
Tick tock goes the clock,  
Now Summer's gone away.  
Tick tock goes the clock  
And all the years they fly.  
Tick tock and all too soon,  
You and I must die  
Tick tock goes the clock,  
He cradled her and he rocked her.  
Tick tock goes the clock,  
Even for the Doctor._**

_And all the years they fly. _

I... I'm getting so very old now.

_And what now shall we play?_

_Tick tock goes the clock,_

_Now Summer's gone away._

I wonder how Amy and Rory are, living their lives out in Manhattan. They'd be curled up together by the fire, like she did with me when she was much younger. They'd be happy, without me to drag them away. I wonder what they do now, to pass the time they have so little of.

_He cradled and he rocked her. _

I wonder what my Clara is dreaming of tonight. Hopefully good things, so I don't have to see her crying.

_And then what shall we see?_

I'm running out of places to run to.

_Tick tock goes the clock,_

_Even for the Doctor._

There is only so much time left for me. I know I can't run forever, although I can try.

Try as I might, I need Clara by my side.

Stars of the night, they see what I hide.

What a beautiful sight, tonight, the slow tide.

I'm not feeling so alright, though, 'till dawn I cried

For her, and for me, and more than a little for the lost ones.

Always grieving for the lost, for generations

At a time, Amy always told me

_Don't travel alone, Doctor_, I obliged to this willingly.

Are you proud of me Amelia? I am _so_ proud of you.

I taught you how to lie, but you taught me the truth,

That even after all the years had flown,

I still needed a friend to call my own.

I found her, and her name is Clara Oswald. She is my Impossible Girl, and she has saved me thousands of times. I wait for the day that she'll let me save her.


	13. In The Dark (Your Careful Whisper)

**_A/N: DOUBLE UPLOAD TONIGHT xD Someone left this song on RedAugust102's INCREDIBLE story 'Not Everything Ends', resulting in me being very inspired to write and learning it on the guitar._**

_And all that we have will be locked into memory,  
Like everything that we've had before.  
So I will stay awake  
And I will watch the fire burning  
And keep the hungry wolves from the door._

_Help me find my way back to the bread crumbs,_  
_I've wandered alone through the trees._  
_The lights are dimming in the windows of the houses,_  
_And my heart is starting to freeze._

_See we have light but we won't use it,_  
_We're scared we'll lose it if we don't use it._  
_Then we'll die here in the dark._  
_They will find us hopeless and helpless,_  
_And clutching our frozen hearts._

_But you and I well we'll be buried side by side,_  
_And time it won't mean a thing._  
_I'll be your underground groom;_  
_You'll be my underground bride._

_Please can you help me keep my head above the water,_  
_I have cramp in both of my calves._  
_Yeah, my lungs are filling up with cold dirty water,_  
_But I've a sickness that is making me laugh._  
_See we have a boat but we don't think it,_  
_We're scared we'll sink it but we'll drink it._  
_If we never find that raft,_  
_We will sink down to the bottom of the ocean_  
_With the fishes that glow in the dark._

_But you and I, well, we'll sink down side by side,_  
_And time, it won't mean a thing._  
_I'll be your underwater groom,_  
_You'll be my underwater bride._  
_And oh, the lights are fading my love,_  
_And oh, the water's filling me up. _

_And oh, the lights are fading my love..._

_Passenger – Underwater Bride_

* * *

**The Doctor**

_Say that you won't forget me, Clara. Promise you'll still love me after my face learns another way to contort and express feeling. Stay with me forever, hovering over my head, showering your wisdom over my decisions. Breathe for me, Clara; breathe __**through**__ me. I never want to be anything less than yours, even when the universe tries time and time again to pry us apart, I will cling to you. I will attach myself to you like a stubborn lid to the jar of strawberry jam, I will lock my hearts to your one heart like a baby tiger meets its mother, meets its first sighting of prey._

Do say that you will stay with me.

Keep the drink past its expiration date,

Forgive them for the mess they made.

We were both only but children

When we found all our loves drowning.

Forgetting to breathe

Don't want to breathe.

I won't have to breathe.

If you stay with me.

Teach me how to see in the dark, and

Hopefully we'll never be parted, and

Oh, my Impossible Girl, let your hand

Never leave mine.

Even on the day that you die.

And on that day I will lie

To myself,

That you'll be alive

To see me through to daylight.

Because anything less than a lie

Is far too terrify-

ing for me to try and grasp.

Never want to forget your careful whisper in the dark.


	14. What I Remembered, Or Forgot (Daddy)

**_A/N: This chapter is in the POV of the Doctor's daughter, Jenny. She is left depressed and distressed, trudging through Nazi Germany and an unfair number of other places, trying to find her dad. Wondering if he still cares. I noticed this poem by Sylvia Plath has many references to Doctor Who, so I wanted to use it. Hopefully I can do it some justice. This is split into two parts._**

_..._

_You do not do, you do not do_

_Any more, black shoe_

_In which I have lived like a foot_

_For thirty years, poor and white,_

_Barely daring to breathe or Achoo._

_Daddy, I have had to kill you._

_You died before I had time—_

_Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,_

_Ghastly statue with one gray toe_

_Big as a Frisco seal_

_And a head in the freakish Atlantic_

_Where it pours bean green over blue_

_In the waters off beautiful Nauset._

_I used to pray to recover you._

_Ach, du._

_You stand at the blackboard, daddy,_

_In the picture I have of you,_

_A cleft in your chin instead of your foot_

_But no less a devil for that, no not_

_Any less the black man who_

_Bit my pretty red heart in two._

_I was ten when they buried you._

_At twenty I tried to die_

_And get back, back, back to you._

_I thought even the bones would do._

_But they pulled me out of the sack,_

_And they stuck me together with glue._

_And then I knew what to do._

_I made a model of you,_

_A man in black with a Meinkampf look_

_And a love of the rack and the screw._

_And I said I do, I do._

_So daddy, I'm finally through._

_The black telephone's off at the root,_

_The voices just can't worm through._

_If I've killed one man, I've killed two—_

_The vampire who said he was you_

_And drank my blood for a year,_

_Seven years, if you want to know._

_Daddy, you can lie back now._

_There's a stake in your fat black heart_

_And the villagers never liked you._

_They are dancing and stamping on you._

_They always knew it was you._

_Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through._

_Sylvia Plath – Daddy_

* * *

**Jenny**

It's been an awfully long time since I've seen you, Daddy. You stand in front of me tonight, and I don't know whether you've gone and made yourself a new face with two new, clean hearts or if it's really just been an awfully long time.

It's been an awfully long time since you've seen me, Daddy. I stand in front of you tonight, and you see the same smile-scarred face, but now it's smothered in a glimpse of blonde turning silver with regret, even at my age; emotions do override biology, sometimes.

Tell me now, look me between my ghostly eyes and _confess_:

Do I look the same to _you_, Daddy?

Can I call you that anymore, by law of the universe?

If anyone should know the definition, it should be you.

An awful lot of 'should', and so very little of 'would'.

Tell me now, as I look between your eyes, so different from what I remembered (or forgot).

Are you the same?


	15. We Dance On Our Graves (We Laugh)

**_A/N: This is part two, in the Doctor's POV. Basically his thoughts in different moments, during his time speaking with Jenny again._**

**The Doctor**

Am I the same? In all honesty, I think so. The same bitter old man who has seen one too many die, zipped up in a suit of awkward flailing movements and non-existent words? That's me. You would know.

* * *

My dear Jenny, my precious child, you thought I forgot you.

I remembered you and cried for you, I _died_ for you. Not one day passes when I don't wonder where you are, if you remember me, the old me. Do I look the same to _you_?

* * *

I'll probably try and blow this off now,

This body of mine can't take the heat

Of loving someone you always lose.

* * *

Losing, winning.

Winning, losing.

Does it matter

Anymore?

* * *

My mind is a constant maze, the end unable to be seen.

My boundaries are set, my movements controlled

Smiling like nothing is wrong.

Bouncing like a child on Christmas,

What I would give to live a life like that.

But if my mind really is a maze, was it I who decided to explore it?

Yet I live through a clown's white face

Almost like it was my choice, my

Wish, to be wished upon by others.

* * *

I am no star.

This star is past dead.

The supernova is gone, and

I am

A black hole.

Living, breathing your

Essence, your

Human

Sense of impending hope.

* * *

Come along, my dear. (Your hand in mine)

Get ready to be _amazed_ (dark laughs fill the room now)

WELCOME TO THE FREAK SHOW (roll up, my dears)

Morphed, misshapen beings on naked display

Turning pleasantly on a brightly lit stage,

Sweating beneath the lights

Dying a thousand moral deaths for the amusement of many.

* * *

Does that sound familiar?

How is it different to anything I do? Anything you've done?

* * *

But foremostly, I apologise.

For running from you, the one who always ran to me (my darling, my Jenny)

I know you can't forgive,

But perhaps you can forget.

Perhaps I can help you

I'll drain away

The pain, always

Lingering.

But no more.

* * *

If I kill you, Jenny, will it be any different than how we stand now?

If you kill me, will you love me still?

Two corpses dancing on

Our own graves.

Father and daughter, we

Take pride in our psychosis.

Our living chaos.

We laugh at what makes our friends cry

And we still paint on our smiling faces

Everyday.

There is no other way to live for us.

(There is no other way to die)

* * *

The joke is on the jester.

Now we wait for the king's applause

Or death.

* * *

You still searched for me

Through hell and through heaven.

You found love

And it destroyed you.

* * *

So now I've found you,

Hopefully I will not be the same.

_I will not be the same_.


	16. In Flames (I Needed You)

**_A/N: Breaking hiatus because of boredom and maybe just a little missing you motley crew. DOUBLE UPLOAD YEAH YEAH. I know, I said I'd cover the Doctor and Clara's wedding, but I was rather uninspired on that front, so I'm giving you more angsty feels (again). This chapter follows Oswin and her first love, concerning how they split up. A fair bit of poetic license; in my preference, Oswin would be a sad, quiet child intent on winning over others through her actions, which became sassy and independent as they grew, making for dynamic character development. This would be her bouncing back to her lonely, introspective years as opposed to the fearlessness and humour we witnessed in Asylum of the Daleks. Ends with her Dalek conversion._**

* * *

_Drifting apart like two sheets of ice, my love.  
Frozen hearts growing colder with time  
There's no heat from our mouths.  
Please take me back to my refuge._

_And we were in flames, I needed, I needed you._  
_To run through my veins, like disease, disease,_  
_And now we are strange, strangers._

_It's different now,_  
_Gray-faced._  
_Eyes burnt out,_  
_Flames are gone._  
_Gloves are on_  
_I have a feeling_  
_Love's gone mad._

_We're too similar,_  
_Losing our minds_  
_With cabin fever,_  
_Shut in confined spaces._  
_Lost in the dark,_  
_My heart taken and resting on your heart._

_Wait for me to degrade before  
You go,  
Killing prey for  
Waste of  
Daylight  
Speaks when  
Slumber's keeping  
Under the bed  
Out of revenge.  
I'm derailing.  
My youth has stained our sheets,  
With some piece of me.  
With some piece of me._

_Oh, winter comes,_  
_Oh, winter crush all of the things that I once loved._

_Winter come,_  
_Winter crush all of the things that I once had._

_Daughter – Winter_

* * *

**Oswin**

How many scars until the skin breaks forth,

Blood rushes forward, angry army of

Mangled men, with

Mangled morals, with

Mangled hearts, and

Mangled minds.

* * *

We were no better than deformed, but

Out of shape, together, at least

A whisper of hope could still

Spark a war cry.

Screaming artificial love,

Crying bitter selflessness in the presence of God.

The judgment is too

Much for two

Souls to bear alone.

* * *

You, the first,

My first,

Was your first

Breath of loving air

Sweet enough to make you

Stay?

Of course it wasn't.

For one so young

You could be so cruel.

* * *

Who am I to say

That you should stay

With one who was so full of

Robotism, before I even boarded

That darling ship I

Sank alongside.

* * *

I've been trying to make soufflés again

But like my soul, refuses to rise.

Not for me, not for anyone else, and I'm so sorry

That our love was too beautiful to live.

* * *

Promise me

You'll forget

That we once loved in time

Sang with hearts so blind,

Not blind enough to miss

The voracious kisses

Of hands; palm to palm in

Prayer.

Searching for a way

To make us stay.

Not a single one was found,

And neither were the first threads

Of the pretty satin ribbon that

Held us together.

* * *

Your friends never liked me

And I blinded an eye

So I could still smile absently, vacantly

At my imperfection.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_,

I promise I'll do better next time.

There is no next time, as

I am backed into the corner of

This ship,

My heart and soul are so

Brutally robbed from

A body which functioned so well,

Fighting for a glimpse of greener pastures.

* * *

Waiting, counting, passing time until the process is complete.

How long does it take to convert a heart so obsolete?

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight.

EX-TER-MIN-ATE.

* * *

_You will identify._


	17. Two Dozen Roses

**_A/N: Finally managed to get a cute one out there. Dang, we all need more Whoufflé fluff in our lives. In true only-the-sassiest style, this is about a quiet moment between moments. I like those moments. Cute, honest fluffiness._**

* * *

_There you are,  
With your light brown hair.  
Apologize 'cause all that I did was stare.  
And no I'm not a creeper, I swear that I'm a keeper.  
I'm just glad you noticed that I was there._

_So now I'm here.  
Without you I'm crushed, 'cause I got these roses,  
These red roses, and God knows that  
I'd have given them to you.  
But I can't get you off my mind,  
No I can't._

_I hope that you notice  
That I'm still paintin' roses,  
Or should I let this all go?_

_AJ Rafael – Red Roses_

* * *

**The Doctor **

She didn't know about Rose back then, but that was okay. The third time I saw modern London Clara she'd put two dozen roses in a vase on the dining table; of course she did. They were red – I know how she loves red. I couldn't wait, I never can, and I forgot to choose Wednesday – I landed on a Sunday instead. I caught a dream of her swirling dress as she danced around the kitchen; it was _my _dream, I realised, to see her this way. I shared her fleeting moment of beauty, full of expecting nothing at all and hoping for everything at once, but it fell with the oven door.

Another one, black, beaten, and falling to pieces.

Kind of like that trick of hers that I'd just started trying to learn. The one where you don't crumble to their feet in a bronze mess of ecstasy, where you're not supposed to jump for joy when they let out a sweet, shimmering breath. That trick where you don't fly in love, so you don't fall out of it. Yeah, I'm not doing so well.

* * *

**Clara**

I didn't know. The third time I saw the Doctor, I'd put two dozen roses in a vase on the dining table; of course I did. He knows how I love red. He couldn't wait; flew straight to Sunday, forgetting our arrangements at the twitch of a bowtie. The thought brought life to my expression in form of a newborn smile, the thought that he couldn't wait for company.

* * *

It's the moments we thought the other didn't see,

They're the ones we die for happily.

Knowing, not knowing,

That's how we know we're growing

Older.

* * *

The seconds ticking

Away from us

Between your teeth as they

So shyly peek from between

Your lips,

It's a simple gesture

But it's more than enough.

The trick has failed.


	18. Collecting Dust & Decay

**_A/N: Haven't covered the Ponds yet, so here we are. Also re-formatted all of these little poetries. :) This one is fairly dark, The Doctor visits Rory and Amy one last time, who are getting very old in Manhattan, he's gone blind and she has carpal tunnels. They hate the Doctor for not being able to save them, but they still miss him a lot. And then they die. Also COMPLETELY UNRELATED NINE REFERENCE! OOOOH YEAHHH._**

* * *

_There's a man with no face  
Just a blurred out portrait  
In a photo frame.  
I'm losing again, I'm losing  
My friend is face down on the pavement._

_Then a woman, she screams, 'It's a terrible night'_  
_As the mood changes to dark from light._  
_Tell the doctor what's become of me_  
_So they can analyse, analyse my dreams_

_Of a smoke filled room._

_Then we kiss, and his lips turn into sand  
And the whole of him cascades through my hands.  
Making a castle on the floor,  
Then I'm alone again.  
No keys and three doors  
In a smoke filled room._

_Now we're both in the room_  
_And we're breathing the fumes._  
_No doors this time, just a gap in the roof,_  
_Light floods in, heaven we're blind_  
_Then slowly suffocating, we're dying._

_In a smoke filled room,_  
_We're dying in a smoke filled room,_  
_We're dying in a smoke filled room._

_Daughter – Smoke_

* * *

**Amelia **

It's been a thousand years of

Blackest night,

It's only right

The sun must appear.

* * *

Give life to the dusty

Shells and rejected

Miscellaneous items,

Forgotten,

Unloved.

* * *

A hundred creatures push it further

Below our limited horizons,

And we lose our light.

Wage a war as savage

Upon them,

Let them burn.

* * *

Let's all burn together.

* * *

We've waited long enough

To be relieved of

A lifetime's worth of

Anticipating absolutely nothing.

That's all we _had_ to wait for.

* * *

**Rory**

These are my eyes, and I didn't ask to see you.

You should probably go now.

* * *

The age of forgiveness died with the truth,

Something you will never come to realise.

* * *

But do you _see _it, Doctor?

Can't you see what you've done to us?

* * *

We forgot how to live

And then we died.

* * *

But our hearts still pull

At our minds

We miss you.

The dead sheep misses the abattoir

In that same twisted

Laugh of masochism

Spilling like blood out of my mouth.

* * *

There were good times once.

They are what I cling to as

My blind hands feel their way

So slowly across the wall

Again, helping my long-blinded eyes

Navigate my own residence.

* * *

Time travel has its own kind of

Toll on the anatomy.

Amelia is familiar with such,

Her carpal tunnels scream regret

Every waking, dying day.

* * *

Medically, scientifically

We will examine you.

We will probe you and prod you

Only for the subtle discomfort

Made not very subtle at all

By the tools/toys and the playthings we have.

They want, they really want

To play with you.

* * *

And yet the age of forgiveness lives again

As the starlight shining from your eyes

Does awaken the sleepy memories of times gone.

* * *

Over tea, we still laugh

A hundred thousand times

Echoing around and between the

Remains of a machine,

Its days of functionality have passed

And we have reached the 'use by' date.

* * *

Smoke rises from our mouths

It's far too cold for our human bodies,

But we don't mind.

* * *

There is no alternative solution,

No lateral thought process,

No shining innovation.

Such things do indeed exist,

If only we knew how to access them.

* * *

And then you dematerialise

Before our eyes.

I weep and she screams

For you.

We've forgotten you

And your chlorophyll irises,

So dangerous and so loved.

* * *

We are left alone in the

Dark, gasping,

Wheezing, surviving

But not living.

We are dying so

Slowly,

Minute by minute the decay

Increases in a directly proportionate

Relationship with the agony

We feel.

* * *

I go first,

Her, second.

You were fantastic,

And so were we.


	19. Blue and Grey

**_A/N: Inspired by Calamity Aima, my OC from 'Unsuited'. Once beautiful, now scarred. Read Chapters 2 & 3 from 'Unsuited' before reading this to get the full story, can also be read as a stand-alone. Thank you to the Guest for the word suggestion.  
_**

* * *

_One day there was a girl who cried tears of pearls,  
And her eyes were blue and green like none I've ever seen.  
And she met a man that night who filled her with delight,  
And he spoke in poetry and rhyme.  
And she loved him in no time._

_But he changed_  
_And then soon he became jealous of her beauty and fame,_  
_And he locked her away and he forced her to play_  
_Songs that were blue, songs that were grey._

_So then this lonely girl had had enough of her world_  
_So she climbed to the top of the tallest tower, and stood there for way over an hour,_  
_Until she decided she'd jump, so she jumped with a very loud thump_  
_And all of the neighbours, they came out and cried_  
_When they discovered that this poor girl had died._  
_And a boy, he just stood there and gasped at this beauty asleep on the grass._  
_Well, her eyes were like none he had seen,_  
_Except for the girls in his dreams._

_Then he changed_  
_And then soon he became depressed and very, very strange._  
_He'd lock himself away for days and days_  
_And play songs that were blue and play songs that were grey_  
_And play songs that reminded him of that day._

_One day, there was a girl who fell in love with a boy in a different world,  
and she speaks to him at night, only in a certain light.  
She wore white when he wore black, and they were like a perfect match.  
And though one was dead and one was alive,  
Through many years, their love did survive._

_'Til time faded and soon they became both exactly the same_  
_And they both are floating in the sky, singing their own lullaby_  
_Of a song of them that reminds them of a past time;_  
_A song that reminds them of a past day,_  
_A song that is blue and a song that is grey._

_Elena Tonra (Daughter) – Blue And Grey_

* * *

**Calamity (to Rory)**

A hundred diamonds scatter

The floor now.

We've been destroyed, we've been

Undone by our own fumbling,

Misguided hands.

* * *

Tell me a story,

Oh Rory.

Promise that you will remember me.

* * *

The general has fallen

And the battalion is stooped

Under their own weight,

How do they

Still fight?

* * *

How do you still fight?

* * *

I entered the room

Clothed in blue, but

Covered in grey.

I poured myself out over you and

The pungent fumes remain centuries later,

Even as the lost souls whisper in

Your ear

_It's time_, they scream

And we swallow the lumps in our throats.

* * *

I'm sorry that I ever told you. But isn't that just human? The need to share, to repair, to stare at someone else. For once.

* * *

Searching for something of interest;

The faintest glimmer of gold in your eyes

It calls to me, tells me

To trust you.

* * *

I trusted that you would fall

For me, but perhaps not the way I hoped.

Instead, beneath me

I am the weight that burdens souls.

* * *

Do not _stay_ for people like me.

We press down on your skin,

Leaving hideous marks and

Heinous scars-

You will _never _be the same.

* * *

Do not _wait_ for people like me.

We hunt you down

And attach ourselves to your hearts.

We leech off of your life source

This relationship will only ever be parasitic.

* * *

Do not try to _save_ people like me.

We will drown you

And use your body to stay afloat.

We hope that you will love us

And if you do,

That is your end to tie.

* * *

Do not _love_ people like me.

We might do something stupid, like

Believe you

When you say that nothing's wrong

With us,

That nothing is the matter

With you.

* * *

It is your loss

And we – I mean, _I_

Have nothing to gain.


	20. Cliché Is As Cliché Goes (Nostalgia)

**_A/N: Blissfully inspired by themadmanhopes' wonderful new chapter in King and Lionheart. Thank you, my dear actual life friend :') My apologies for being so late to update; my only excuse is school. A thousand thanks to all my dear readers & reviewers, you are the glue which holds me together. What do you say to a couple (more) last angst chapters before what I like to call the series finale? But, true to my word, this will never end. I will only leave it like a half-read book to the shelf when you find you've no time to savour it. This chapter is entirely prose, given that the last two chapters were entirely poetry. Small flashback to the first chapter in second paragraph, also I don't know if you've noticed, but I love depressing music, which usually means Daughter. Sorry not sorry. And I deleted 'Chapter 13 - We Will Meet Again (Lonely Traveller)'. Never liked it much, and it leaves room for one more anyway. Plan on ending on my lucky number, 22. Enjoy!_**

* * *

_Love; hunt me down,  
I can't stand to be so dead behind the eyes.  
And feed me, spark me up,  
A creature in my blood stream chews me up._

_So I can feel something._  
_So I can feel something._

_Give me touch,_  
_'Cause I've been missing it._  
_I'm dreaming of_  
_Strangers,_  
_Kissing me in the night._  
_Just so I,_  
_Just so I_

_Can feel something._

_You steal me away  
With your eyes and with your mouth.  
And just take me back to a room in your house,  
And stare at me with the lights out_

_To feel something._

_Daughter – Touch_

* * *

**Clara**

I wake up covered in fear; shivering pure torture. Breathing is agony, yet still I manage to scream my emotion. Then the silken lull of emotional anaesthetic arrives in perfect synch with the dawn, which so gently past my window has come – I feel nothing. The sweet prayer's been answered with topsy-turvy brain fluids claiming dominance over the no man's land and my heart stills like early morning. I cried myself to sleep, it seems. Again.

I turn with a sigh, and see him there. Watching me quietly, green eyes glowing like two ancient stars waiting for the time to pass, and I watch him, lost somewhere between curiosity and awe.

I so dimly recall the feeling of love from the night of our wedding and soon enough, the numbness has been driven away by this light. He smiles, and so do I – a billion million trillion smiles packed tightly into the one on this face.

I might have lived countless lives already, but this one will not be left to drown in the crowd. This one will be cherished and honoured and loved. Cared for, fought for, killed for.

This is the life where I met the Doctor, and while cliché is as cliché goes - I truly would never dream of changing a thing.


	21. Don't Turn Around (I'm Waiting For You)

**_A/N: One more chapter 'till finale! Aughh I am so excited. A dark poem for you bloodthirsty ones out there. Highly requested, you guys absolutely shattered my inbox – so here's a little tribute to one of the Doctor's greatest enemies. And for the first time I used unrelated songspiration to help me write: Kanye West, God – I Am A God_**

* * *

_"Do they think that walls can hide you,  
even when I'm at your window?  
I am in the dark beside you,  
buried sweetly in your yellow hair."_

_'Anthony Hope', Sweeney Todd – The Demon Barber of Fleet Street_

* * *

**The Great Intelligence**

Stop trying to run away,

I'll be here every time you

Turn around

Don't turn around, dear.

* * *

I'll slit your throat and

Steal your guts

Sell them for black pride

And eat your heart out.

* * *

Stop trying to run away,

I've got you now,

Pinned you down,

You are _mine_ to destroy.

* * *

I am the downfall of the Doctor.

I am the man who makes your nightmares

So carefully, constructing them lovingly.

_STOP RUNNING FROM ME._

* * *

_YOU ARE NOT GOING TO ESCAPE_

_MY IRON GRASP._

_NO ONE IS GOING TO HEAR YOU SCREAM._

_STOP __**RUNNING **__FROM ME._

* * *

Go on then, make it fun for me.

Draw out your time

Before I draw out your blood.

Don't turn around, dear.

* * *

I'm waiting for you

Behind that cobweb-covered door in your house

You knew as a kid.

* * *

I'm waiting for you,

Don't turn around.

I'm going to inflict pain upon you

Every way,

Every minute of every day.

* * *

But you turned around.

* * *

_Boo. _


	22. She (Still) Burns The Brightest

**_A/N: It's 11-11 today, ANZAC Memorial Day in Australia and New Zealand. The flowers made me want to write. My mum is a florist at Stems Floral Design (check them out; their flowers are the freshest out aye) and flowers are just really important to me. Weddings. Yes, okay Yura; you're getting carried away again. I swear this is relevant. Anyway, this will be the series finale. I will continue this again sometime after Christmas, I absolutely promise. This was inspired by the proposal in The Other Has My Heart by D Veleniet. Also NIGHT WEDDINGS ARE BEST WEDDINGS, NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE. Love you all 3_**

* * *

_It's like a thousand colours I've never seen before,_

_Like the sound of a smile in someone's voice,_

_Skin __**soaked**__ in sunshine._

_An anchor holds a moving vessel_

_I am that vessel._

_Taken from a media clip from the Night Session 3 Opener for Nations Youth Conference 2013, 'Turn It Up'_

* * *

**Clara**

The day has come;

It's dressed in white

As am I, good friend!

Awaiting my first wedded night.

* * *

My nerves tingle red with joy or

Apprehension, he says

That this is set to be the

Most important wedding in time and space.

* * *

I somehow feel that my bright yellow heart's displaced itself

Into the air (or lack thereof) in this glorious space,

Across the rose-strewn aisle to light up

His glowing face.

* * *

The stars, so bright above, they swoon for us

_Come with joy in your heart, _they cry.

Oh how I hope that our voices

Would be their lullaby.

* * *

I love them, it's true.

And I love him too.

Suffice to say, silly old man

"I _definitely_ do."

* * *

**The Doctor**

She enters the room as a beautiful thief,

I swear my Clara will be the death

Of me, her beauty does take no efforts to

So violently steal our silver breath.

* * *

Something old,

Something new,

Something borrowed,

Something blue.

* * *

Our vows fly faster than

My TARDIS ever could for me,

The tears in our eyes give

No need for soliloquy.

* * *

Each knows what the other feels,

The church bell peals,

Negativity congeals

In this presence of joy, is it real?

* * *

It still strikes my mind at

Not a few past midnight,

My Clara is one of many,

But she still burns as the brightest light.

* * *

Even amongst a thousand candles which light our rightful space, amongst the stars, tonight.


End file.
